Turning the Tide
by Nuclear Burp
Summary: Dyme has arisen from the ashes of his nobody, and vows to make the organization fear his wrath. But first, he must overcome the trials of living with himself. DISCONTINUED/UP FOR ADOPTION.
1. The Vow

_Primeval Eidolon Scar requested this. Read, or be Nobodified._

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_Aww… Blew it again…_

That was the last thing he could remember. That, and his screaming, his beloved sitar boiling away to nothing, his body lost to the darkness.

_Eh.. Ah? NO WAAAAAY!!!_

They had thrown him into the field of combat unprepared. Using him as nothing more than a catspaw, holding him against Sora for as long as it took till the horde of heartless could get into position.

_This… This feeling…_

Wisps of his memory drifted through the twilight realm, glowing slightly as it contacted the mists in the clouds, shimmering in the afternoon heat.

_I still can't feel… anything…_

The boy who had slain him was shedding great sorrow, and he could not feel anger at the child. A friend had fallen, and even the Nocturne felt his memory twinge in sympathy… Somewhere in his past lives, a great friend of his had fallen, perhaps a lover? But the Nocturne could no longer remember his name; his memory was corrupting in the void.

_Axel, Roxas, Luxord, Xigbar… Namine. My companions. Thank you._

Who was that person? That old friend? He had died a far way away, a long time ago… His name… Ze-… something. The collection of memories made up their collective minds to decide later. The boy was joining up with yet more companions and vanquishing heartless, mindlessly pulverizing in the name of 'good'. He was little more than a gifted puppet, abet a strong-willed one. The memories recalled that yes, even they had been answering to the beck and call of the one named Xemnas.

_But as for you, Superior… You sent me to die._

Well, that was a surprise, the boy's friend was only knocked out. They were speaking of a great trial, a massive amount of heartless had assembled outside the small cave, the memories could hear the great call of the monsters, so many were they…

_I swear, if I can ever return to this mortal plane…_

The Superior had come, had spoken, had departed. The boy and his friends had rushed into the great throng, the Keyblade flashing in holy light, the good-luck charm seeming out of place in the dark depths.

… _I will show you my rage, my hatred of you…_

The creatures were dying in droves, the boy sliced, cut carved through their ranks. Sliding beneath a flying heartless, grabbing it and firing a great beam in a circle. Hearts flew from their cages, returning to the great moon…

… _and you will DROWN in it._

The final heartless fell, the heart…

The heart remained floating high above the air, before soaring into the clouds, where it touched upon a wisp, a faint glow…

There was a flash, a great undulation of sound, and…

Dyme awoke, and felt his body float down.

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_Yes, he will be VERY pissed off._


	2. Courage

_So, this is the second chapter. _

_I wonder if you like?_

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_I am falling… through the dark waters…_

His green eyes opened, looked at the shaky sunlight filtering down through the ocean above. He did not move his body, the slow waters were warm and soothing and he could not want for anything.

_How am I breathing? Ah… I am breathing. Breathing is wonderful!_

His body tilted until his feet touched the sand at the bottom, his eyes scanned the surface, the surroundings, nothing. All was dark, only the murky glow from above allowed anything to be seen. He shifted his feet, and the sand erupted into a flying cacophony of doves, their wings softly brushing past his face as they continued past him and into the darkness.

Below him, a green mosaic stood testament to his past life. On the left, curled around the edge of the platform and holding a strange blue lute was a man with his eyes closed. Dyme thought the man looked… familiar. Perhaps a brother? He could not remember meeting anyone with such an outrageous hair style… But then, he could not remember anything.

On the right, Dyme saw himself in a pose of worship, praying to some deity. His golden braids curled deftly behind his head, his green eyes closed as his hands forsook his soul to something he could not see.

Dyme wandered the circumference of the circle, trying to discern the identity of the man with the strange lute. His face was in a sharper relief to his own, his hands looked gnarled, yet undoubtedly soft.

**You have returned.**

Dyme jumped, the voice had been right by his ear!

"Who… Who's there?" He stammered.

**Once again, you walk on the edge.**

"The edge? The edge of what?"

**Do you choose to sleep? Here, sleep is eternal.**

"I'm not tired!" Dyme was beginning to suspect the voice could not hear him.

**So much to do, so little time. Take your time.**

"What am I supposed to do?"

**Take your first steps. The beginnings of a new journey.**

Dyme hesitated, before walking forward, then sprinting into the middle of the circle.

"Can you tell me what's going on? Where am I?!" He yelled.

**Good. Now, open the door to your self, free what lies within.**

A door burst into view, all carved wood and glass. Dyme had a feeling that he'd seen it before, but the whereabouts escaped him.

"So.. Uh, what do I do, do I just touch it or- Whoa!!" Dyme leapt back as the door began to open, flooding the scene with an impossibly bright light. When it cleared, the mural below hadn't changed, but simply changed to a dark shade of red.

**What will you take of yourself, to better accomplish your goal?**

"My goal?" Dyme repeated, flinching when three pedestals materialized, each with a glowing orb hovering above them. After pausing to see what else would happen, he walked over to one and touched the orb on instinct. It burst, and a miniature percussionist set encased in gold and chrome formed in front of him.

**The drums, the rhythm and heartbeat of the show. A strong pulse to better support your friends and send your enemies flying.**

**Is this the weapon you seek?**

"Um… Pass." He muttered. Instantly, the set dissolved back into the floating orb.

Dyme walked to the next on the right, watching as the orb transformed into a tiny pianoforte, the ivory on the keys carved with infinite delicacy.

**The piano, the soul and mind of the act. A clever melody to enlighten your friends and bedazzle your enemies.**

**Is this the weapon you seek?**

Dyme simply shook his head, before moving to the final orb, noting with interest the guitar that formed out of the light, its strings fine silk, the resonating chamber laid out in sandalwood and oak.

**The guitar, the muscle of the performance. A furious solo to rouse your friends and rip your enemies asunder.**

**Is this the weapon you seek?**

"Hell yeah!" He cried, holding his hand out to grab the instrument, stepping back as the pedestals collapsed and the weapon reappeared in a normal size in his grasp. Dyme was pleased to note that it was still every bit as exquisite as the miniature version.

He tried a few notes, and the guitar growled and screamed like a raging angel, he smiled in satisfaction, thinking that life wasn't all bad.

**Behind you!**

Dyme turned, a small cry arising from his throat as he saw the little black demon with yellow eyes, its shadowy limbs flopping towards him. He flailed at it with the butt of his weapon, with the creature simply sunk into the ground. Dyme overturned the guitar with a yell and smashed it edge first onto the black patch where the heartless had dissolved, but the attack didn't even leave a mark on the demon.

It melted back over the side of the platform, traversing the edge out of Dyme's sight as it came over the other side, reforming and leaping before the man could register.

Cold claws ripped through his skin, splattering the mural with blood and drawing a howl of rage from the musician.

"YOU'RE DEAD!!"

He doubled over his guitar, his fingers looking to spasm over the strings as the solo raged out into the darkness. The heartless was blown to the ground by the waves of force erupting from the man and lay there, waving its appendages like an upturned beetle, before the guitar slammed into its head and blew it away, leaving behind little green and golden balls.

Dyme was left panting, holding a hand to his back and shuddering as he felt the sticky dampness that told off blood. He inched closer to the little balls, recognizing the golden spheres as munny… But what were…?

Before he could finish that thought, the green balls flew around him and wrapped around his wounds, sealing the cuts and replacing the lost fluids. Almost immediately after, the pain ceased and Dyme began to breathe easier..

"I'm not doing that again…"

**Good. As expected, you surpass yourself.**

There was something about the way he said that, Dyme thought, that was extremely weird.

Another door formed out of the darkness, blazing bright. Dyme kept his eyes shielded until he could no longer see the purple splotches that accompanied being dazzled.

**Beware, beyond this door, there is no resting place. Danger is real, beyond there.**

"Oh, so getting your back fucked up by some shadow with teeth isn't dangerous?" Dyme yelled into the uncaring gloom. After a few seconds of waiting for a reply, he growled in irritation and swung his guitar at the door, where it rebounded and smacked into his forehead, not improving the situation in the slightest.

Sulking and grumbling, Dyme resorted to touching the door, holding his eyes closed again as once again the flare burned red through his eyelids.

"What's with all the light?" Dyme called out, blinking as his eyes readjusted.

This setting was strange; the mosaic was there, but nothing else. He began walking out to the centre, halting in the middle and folding his arms, guitar firmly secured under his armpit.

A thought struck Dyme, he looked down at what was covering his body.

"This isn't my stuff!" He cried as he pulled at the large cloak encasing him. He felt around the back, bypassing the hood and gripped where the shadow had slashed him, there was no tear.

Just then, the cloak began to evaporate, its black strands shredding and floating upwards, funneling into a pile a few feet behind him, covering the long shadow that pooled after him.

**The more you search, the closer you come to light. The closer you come to light, the stronger your shadow grows. You searched much, took much, found much.**

Dyme's shadow began to engorge, the point where it met his feet shrunk back as the monstrosity grew until it loomed over him, a heart-shaped hole in its chest, a dark scarf billowing over its shoulders while its eyes burned like stars.

**But then you split in two, and halved and doubled your shadows, and halved and doubled yourself. You became a creature of the Twilight.**

The strands of the cloak the had been twisted into the monster now flared in a strange silver radiance as the threads ingrained themselves in the thing, coursing it with great grey strands and melting into its claws, sprouted like thorns onto its body.

With a final roar the demon began slowly edging towards Dyme, its steps shaking the pillar on which they stood, so heavy were they.

Dyme took a step back, then another, before succumbing to terror and running to the edge of the platform, flailing his limbs over the edge as he missed falling into the murky depths by mere inches.

**Be strong. And bring your world, once more, into the light.**

With those last words, the arena was silent, save for the _Stromp, stromp_ of the monsters footfall and the scream of Dyme as he rushed towards it, guitar at the ready.

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_If you like, tell me!  
_


	3. Unknown Allies

_My apologies for being late, guys. I'm finding it hard to get inspired._

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Dyme's mad rush was quickly halted by the wall of thorns that had sprung up in front of him, piercing his clothes and hlding him in place, until they grew up and further higher, holding the young man in midair as the monster inspected him

Dyme's mad rush was quickly halted by the wall of thorns that had sprung up in front of him, piercing his clothes and holding him in place, until they grew up and further higher, restraining the young man in midair as the monster inspected him.

The creature pulled back its hand, ready to deliver a killing blow. Within seconds, Dyme had lost his passion, to be replaced with a great melancholy, a despair as shudderingly deep as a demon's eyes. He was so confused, he was crazy, he had to be crazy, he reasoned. Best just to die, let the fear and terror end.

But there was something within that wanted to live.

_Get up, get up, get up…_

The warped fist soared towards him, the shock hurtled him to the floor with a grotesque smack.

_Get up, get up, get up…_

The monster half-slithered, half stomped to the quivering man that lay in a pile of robes, teeth opened to sample the blood of the still living…

_Get up, Get up, Get up…Get up, Get up, Get up!!_

"NO!!" Dyme yelled, a rage that shook his entire being as the guitar disappeared…

Blue, water, everything fluid and mobile, wrathful as a tsunami, dark as a hurricane… He could feel these in his mind, the want, the desire to finish something important.

_Sitar…_

Dyme starred at the instrument in his hands. It felt so familiar, but he knew he had never played something like _this _before_, _hell, a minute ago he didn't know what a Sitar was!

He turned to the monster that had paused at the sight of the Indian lute, his teeth bared and eyes triumphant.

_Get up, Get up, Get up…!_

Dyme let loose a long, powerful note of noise from the strings, and water began to fountain upwards from the arena in massive plumes, drenching the floor in at least a Tonne of liquid.

He felt the water carry him upwards, still standing until a massive wave formed from the force of the spinning waters, and at a single pluck of his instrument…

…_Drop the bombshell!_

… The wave fell onto the monster, slamming it with the force of a wet nuke, the churning mess spat foam and shadow blood as the thing desperately flailed for air. The backwash smashed into the invisible shield around the edge of the platform, breaking it and sending the deluge off the sides, leaving a wet and shaking Dyme to contend again with the twilight shadow that seemed only further annoyed at his attack.

"You want me? Come and get me!" Dyme screamed his defiance, raising his Sitar and plucking at the strings, conjuring geysers of boiling vapor, laughing with a twisted malice as the creature screamed in pain.

But as he giggled hysterically and played with his instrument, walking forward with the bubbling plumes bursting in time to his wet footsteps, the twilight melted into the floor.

Not all of it, some of its form was left behind, but Dyme didn't notice. Didn't want to notice, the taste of revenge was lingering, and that's when the spiked appendage that had formed behind him sliced over his arm.

Dyme gave a cry of agony as his body registered the cut, and he held a hand over his shoulder to stem the bleeding as the monster reformed, looking unharmed once more.

_I can't beat this thing!_

_**You don't have to, my liege.**_

"What the…" Dyme mouthed, staring as thorns erupted from the space separating him and the Creature. A good thirty, maybe forty white shapes twisted out of the void, dancing slowly as they took their positions facing the suddenly hesitant Twilight Shadow.

_**You gave us your music, your hope for better times ahead. We swore our fealty, we do not place our loyalties lightly, and we chose You-who-sings.**_

_**KIN!! For our liege! For our honour! DEATH TO THE SHADOW!!**_

The voice was monotonous, until the final battle cry sounded in Dyme's head and the husks launched themselves at the monster who swung its vicious claws in great, sweeping arcs. Many husks returned to the immaterium upon contact, their bodies dissolving in a ribbon of twilight, but more and more of them appeared, slicing into the monster as Dyme watched on, stunned. Blood continued to flow unchecked from his shoulder and dripped to the ground, mingling with the last traces of water.

Finally, the monster was overburdened by the Dancers, falling to its knees, then onto its abdomen.

_**Strike the final blow!**_

Dyme lifted the Sitar and ran forward screaming wordlessly, pain and adrenaline and a blind rage brought the Sitar crashing into the creatures head, splattering ebony-hued blood all over the platform as he crushed the monster again and again, each swing punctuated by a shout of hatred.

At last, Dyme stopped; his madness spent as his Sitar slipped from his hands and disappeared in a flurry of bubbles.

"I… What in hell… I don't…"

_**All will become clear, liege.**_

"Will you stop that?! How come I'm hearing voices?!"

_**Because you gave us voices to sing. We doubt you remember, but all will become clear to you in the end. To both of you.**_

"Stop speaking in riddles! I don't want-!"

The monster's corpse began dissolving behind Dyme as he ranted on to the quickly vanishing Nobodies, not noticing that he was alone with the floor slowly covering in Shadows.

"-And another thing, where am I?!"

Silence reigned. Dyme suddenly realized that there was no-one to talk to.

And that the darkness was rising to claim him.

"Wha-… No! No!!"

The darkness swarmed over him, drenching him and smothering his nose and mouth. The ooze crept into his body and he felt a great chill spread into his bones.

_**Do not worry. You still have friends, liege. You were the one who showed us…**_

The last thing Dyme remembered was an old memory, his sister… Dressed in pink ribbons and a dress, shrieking with delight when he gave her piggybacks and fed her ice cream that they'd snuck from the freezer.

He'd never see her again. He promised himself he'd find her.

… _**hope.**_

Dyme slipped into oblivion, and lost himself in slumber.

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	4. A Mistake to hate

_Late, I know. Things that get reviewed update faster. Happy now? =p

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_

"Hey, you alive?"

_He could remember the struggling, the suffocating blackness, buried in ink and rolling without breath… Buried alive, no air, no sight or sound or anything other than his muffled screams dying in his chest._

"Aerith! This one's breathing!"

_He could taste the bile rising in his throat, the numbness welling up, and the deathly cold of the other world's call. He was sure to die, he was going to die, and that would be the end of it. But with no memories, no chance to enjoy what was left; he couldn't let himself go like that._

"I don't think this one's one of the registered townsfolk, Squall."

"Leon."

"As pontificating as ever, even in the aftermath."

_So what had saved him? Those strange, white twisty ties with the dancing shoes? The more he looked inward, the more he remembered reaching out, searching for something that would save him, anything. His memory grew fuzzy, but he remembered something grab his hand… leather. Damp leather._

"It's to protect my identity, cover my shame. I've told you a hundred times-"

"And by now, everybody knows anyway that you're a Mister Squall Leonhart, king of the grumps, lord of Grumpopolis. Now shush, I am a little low on magic, this Curaga will be difficult."

_Damp leather, that smelled of tuning grease and shower soap, that felt like sunscreen and water and rolled like it belonged to an undernourished wrist. But even as he pursued the fleeting recollection, he felt his breathing grow strong again._

"Where do you think he's from?"

"Does it matter? Hey, he's stirring, guess he wasn't hit that bad after all."

_Muscles aching from the exertion beforehand relaxed and were soothed by cooling magic, burning eyes dampened, a wandering pulse corrected itself, and little flaws worked themselves out. He could feel other things now, the mist on the air, the chill of the breeze, the faint scent of flowers and cordite, and the jerky cobbles that he lay upon. _

"Are you okay? Can you open your eyes?"

_A woman's voice, soft and concerned. Something about her tones read 'Big sister' in skyscraper-high letters, and he tried not to dwell too far on it._

"I… I…" The man croaked, surprised at the reedy gasps and weak voice that formed the words. His lungs screamed with pain, and his voice box felt like it was about to jump out of his throat. "W-water… please…"

"Water… oh, no… Squall! We need something to drink!" The woman called out, answered with a shuffle of movement and a _pop_ as a stopper came loose. Dyme felt somebody place a drink bottle at his bottom lip, and with a growl of desperation found himself sucking madly from the nub, the liquid hurting as it went down his throat. After a good five seconds of frenzied drinking, the bottle was snatched away.

"Sorry, but you'll injure yourself if you drink any more. Here, help me hold him up, you great lug." She muttered as she wrapped her arms around his torso, straining to lift him to her shoulder. The man grunted in frustration, his own hands lifting Dyme from his right arm to balance him evenly against the two. He still wouldn't open his eyes, even the red glare of the sun glowing through his lids was almost too painful to bear.

"My head… hurts… chest too…" Dyme squirmed around as their arms brushed against his oh-so-tender areas. "… Is this still Suntower Setstone? Or did they… rename it?" He asked, breaking mid-question to fill his aching lungs again.

The two assistants continued to shuffle him around, silent for a few seconds while they processed his question. He personally didn't know what the problem was, if it had been renamed, then if the town schedule had been followed, he would have been gone for at least two years, maybe more.

"We don't know any place by that name, I'm afraid." Came the cool, emotionless male's reply.

"Squall…" The woman's tone held a snatch of admonishment.

"Okay, whatever. _I_ don't know any place by that name. Happy now?"

"Not really, but it's the thought that counts." Came a breezy retort.

"Where is this place, then?" Dyme asked a few seconds later, when he felt his throat loosening from the water.

"Hollow Bastion."

"What kind of a name is that?"

"What kind of a name is Sunflower Suckstones?"

"Setstone." Dyme snapped, miffed. A brief hail of coughing had the end of the conversation in its grasp, before he felt the lift under his arms weaken, lowering him into a sitting position against a wall. Cold marble lay jarred underneath him, a questing hand found the pieces in regular patterns, suggesting a mosaic.

"I don't think I can open my eyes…" He groaned, hearing the other man grunt in response, "Suck it up."

"Squall, you weren't much better after tackling the Heartless when Sora went through."

Even though his head was still fuzzier than a plush toy, Dyme found enough of a recollection to blurt the name out.

"Sora?"

"Oh? You know him, mister?"

"I… do I?"

"You sounded like you did. Right, Squall?"

"Hmph."

"That's a yes in grumpy-ese. Don't worry, I'll teach you it."

"Aerith."

"And that's a 'Stop mocking me because I'm a little boy inside and he's crying because you're such a meanie.'"

"_Aerith._"

"So, there's Hmph, which means 'yes'. There's 'Hmmmmph.', which means 'I dunno'. There's 'HHHHMMMMHHHPPH', which I think means 'I just imagined my own naked body and it totally turning me on, Ump humph…"

"_Aerith._"

"Okay, I'm stopping now. So, mister, what's your name?"

"Dyme. Dyme Adozen."

"Heh."

"Squall, shut up. Wait, waitwaitwaitwait… did you just laugh?"

"Hmph."

"Holy hell, Squall laughed! Hey, Dyme, you're definitely coming with us, next thing, you'll be making Squally-poo cry!"

"Aerith, you're confusing him."

"Yes you are."

"Yeah, you kinda am, Miss Aerith." Dyme sighed, feeling the strength return to his legs. That weird glow he'd seen through his eyelids must have had some kind of awesome stuff, now, if only he good just eat a big meal and sleep for a week…

"So, Mr Dyme, reckon you can open your eyes now?"

Dyme considered his choices. Yes, his eyes hurt, but so did everything else, and the lady sounded cute, even if the jerk she kept teasing was a bit of a square… and he needed to open his eyes, he needed to see where he was.

A snatch of light as he parted his lids made him close them again, but a second attempt was less blinding, and blinking hard he set his vision on the scene before him. The ground was covered in blue, and drew his attention immediantly, the rhythm on the marble settling into a hue of green and turquoise that seemed… familiar, like he'd only been there once, but it had been a big moment.

Then he saw the purple walls, and he knew he'd never been here. Black traces of ichors stained the rock and slivers of something grey seemed to _move_ whenever he looked at them. The sky was just settling into dust as he watched the sky, still blinking. The tones of orange and red were also familiar to him, and some of the tension seeped from his shoulders.

A cough from the man turned him towards the unkempt mess of brown hair, the leather jacket, the scar across his nose and the cold eyes of a warrior, his sword still slung across his back. _So that must be Squall, huh? What a freak._ Came the thoughts unbidden from Dyme's head, but he still watched as the man turned to watch the exits to the square, on guard and alert.

"So, Mister Dyme, what do you think of Hollow Bastion?"

"It's… Olette?"

He couldn't believe it. The hair was longer, grown out into a braided ponytail and tucked in the back, but there was no mistaking those green eyes, that gentle smile. No way could two of her exist in the universe, there just wasn't any way, no possibility whatsoever.

"Huh? My name's Aerith, Mister Dyme." Came the confused reply. Squall paused from his sentinel duty to watch the two, interested despite himself.

"No it isn't, sure, you're older now, maybe you've been brainwashed, maybe you've just forgotten me, but there's no way you're not Olette!" Dyme gasped, feeling desperation overtake him. He'd been sucked through time, that was it, that must be it!

"No, my name is Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough, lived in Hollow Bastion since birth… not counting the time in Transit Town, anyway. Who's Olette?"

"She's you!" Dyme flailed, "I'd recognize her anywhere! She's you! You're Olette!"

"Dyme, what makes you think I'm her?"

"There's no way I wouldn't recognize you!"

"Why?"

Dyme groaned, exhausted from his exertion, but he could at least remind her, tell her…

"Because you're my little sister!"

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_Righto! Now, there's a poll up on my profile, check it out. And remember to click the link at the bottom of my profile, it's a great spoof of popular animes and pretty damn fun in the bargain. Oh, and review too, that would be sweet. Feel free to question me!_


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